Six Kinds of Glue
by lefreakcestchic
Summary: "The road to redemption is a rocky path." Ali returns to Rosewood.


**A/N:** You know, there's a lot of questions that come to my mind when I'm watching PLL, like, the more obvious ones ("Who the frick frack is Uber A?", "Where is Mike Montgomery?", "What happened to Noel Khan and Holden Strauss?", "Why does Ali keep on coming back in a red coat?") but ever since the infamous Halloween episode, or maybe even way before that, I keep on asking myself how the girls are going to handle Ali's eventual return to Rosewood. And then this 10k+ word fic kinda happened. Oops.

Set somewhere in the (not so?) distant future where they're done with A, Ali came back from hiding a few weeks ago and things between her and the liars are... well, let's say, kinda strained. Follows canon up to "_Grave New World_" (and completely disregards the Haleb break-up that's going to happen because I say so).

I wanted to post this before the new episode aired so all mistakes are mine. The show and the characters, however, aren't.

* * *

_Tape ain't gonna fix it, honey, it ain't gonna stick  
Tape ain't gonna fix it, honey, it ain't gonna stick to you  
Six kinds of glue won't hold you, won't hold you_

It's not like she expected everything to be rainbows, puppies and butterfly kisses once she came back – _really_, really back – but it's still strange, dammit, and she can actually see, no, strike that, feel the wariness that surrounds all of them, a hard look that clearly says, "We still don't trust you". And maybe, Ali thinks, fiddling with her bracelet, maybe they're allowed to treat her like a complete outsider, a total stranger, after everything they had to go through because of her (after everything she put them through, even before, way before, her faux-death and hidden visits in itchy red coats) but it still feels odd. She still feels odd.

Her mother, of course, slides back so swiftly and easily, having normal conversations with her, like, _do you really want to wear tha_t, and, _go ask Jason if he wants to eat dinner with us_, and it's probably part of her recovery, the way she deals with the last three and something years but sometimes Ali catches her mother staring at her intently as if she expects her daughter to dissolve any minute.

(And sometimes she gets this really weird anxiety attacks like a total freak when Ali comes home late, even it it's just five minutes, and then she starts screaming and crying hysterically and Ali can't help but shout back things like, "Yeah, well, at least you weren't buried alive" and it's supposed to come out bitchy and cold and full of Ali humor but it sounds... sad? And then her mom looks like she's about to faint and hugs her. So tightly it actually hurts but Ali rarely feels a thing these days.)

Mom and Jason talk about moving a lot, most of the time when they're all sitting at the table and she's picking at her food, putting the pies in a neat line, then squashing them. She supposes it's because they think the house holds to many bad memories for her, what with the backyard, their past and The Night She Isn't Allowed to Talk About and one evening, when Ali is wandering around the house again, restless, sleepless and the intense feeling like she's supposed to be somewhere, somewhere else, inside of her, Jason joins her in the living room and they sit side by side for a little while, kind of enjoying each other's company until he breaks the silence and suggests that she could have his room if she likes, and for a short second, she's taken aback – her brother, showing sincere concern for her, when did that happen? Did it come with sobriety? – and she wants to laugh at him, just like she did in those old times, she wants to be mean and tell him where he can shove his offer but then she looks into his eyes, so similar to her own, yet so different, and the retort dies in her throat at once.

(She doesn't know how to heal the scars she's left on people, why do they expect her to?)

* * *

They switch rooms, eventually, because Jason's sleep schedule is probably as fucked up as hers and he spends most nights passing out in the sitting room, anyway (after checking in on her at least ten times and whispering about_ important _stuff with their mother and god, if they get any more overprotective, she might suffocate, for real this time).

Still, most evenings, she finds herself lingering in the comforting darkness of her old room, casting looks over to the Hastings' and of course she can't hear anything but most evenings, there they are and Ali is pretty sure that the evenings she can't find them sitting on Spencer's bed, flipping through magazines and giggling like the fifteen-year-old they're not (anymore), they're at Aria's or Em's or Hanna's and it makes her angry (jealous) and then it makes her furious (sad).

(But mostly she feels her heart clench. Not that she'd tell. Anyone. Ever.)

Besides, people talk about them in separate entities, anyway. It's Alison _and_ the girls because even strangers realize that she doesn't belong.

Ali can't help but wonder whether she ever belonged at all.

Probably not.

One night she sees Spencer glancing at her while she's reading by Jason's window. The brunette gives her a strange half-smile, then waves. Ali hesitates and waves back, politely. The next day, Spencer's boyfriend helps her install blinds and Ali doesn't see them anymore.

Three and a half weeks pass and she's lying on Jason's bed when her mom comes in (wearing gardening cloves, of course; as if it's possible to erase the memories of That Night by putting pretty roses on top of her mock-grave) and says, smiling a little bit too much, "You've got a visitor".

Ali sits up abruptly and expects to see Em in the doorway (and, yeah, maybe her heart starts racing just a little bit, whatever) but the real surprised half-jump of her innards comes when Hanna Marin steps into Jason's room and nods at her.

Alison nods back.

Her mom is already babbling about nonsensical topics, asking questions about Ms Marin, complimenting Hanna's weight – and Ali notices her friend's (ex-friend's?) uneasiness but Hanna's too polite to say anything so she gives a strained smile instead – and then leaves the girls to themselves, telling them that she'll bring up brownies later, and if Hanna wants to eat them, they're sugar-free, nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

Ali wants to tell her mom to stay but she's already left. The air between the two blondes gets really heavy, like, deadly heavy – and she _so_ needs to stop those suffocating and dying metaphors, otherwise people will never believe her that she's fine. Which she is. Totally, completely fine.

"So," Hanna says, looking anywhere but at Ali, "I haven't seen you in a while."

24 days but who's counting, Ali thinks.

"Yeah," she replies casually, shrugging, "I was busy. I go out all the time. Had to meet some old friends, cute boys, you know."

She hasn't showered in a few days, maybe it's been a week already, she doesn't know and she can't remember. Her nails aren't done, her shirt is dirty and she's pretty sure that Hanna can clearly see her unshaven legs even if they're covered by tiny, really light blond hair and she's still standing in the doorway.

Hanna is so freaking polite, though. She gives her a smile and plays along. For some stupid reason. God, Hanna. "Yeah? What boys?" she asks in a teasing voice and somewhere underneath that, Ali can sense how uncomfortable she is.

"College boys. Duh," Ali replies, then blurts out the first thing that comes to her mind, "I met someone at Hollis, English major and way–"

She stops herself when she sees Hanna's face and it's not until then that she realizes what she just said. Suddenly, she feels dizzy and sweaty and cold and damn, was this room always so freaking small?

"Ali?" Hanna asks, frowning.

Ali feigns a smile, stands up (her legs are shaking) and says, "And what are you up to these days?"

The blonde clears her throat and starts talking and Ali's trying to listen really, really hard but Hanna's voice slowly fades away and she feels like she's under water, she can't breathe, desperately trying to break through the surface... no, strike that, she feels like she's underneath the ground, dirt filling her lungs and someone's standing above her, shovel in their hand, a creepy grin, all Cheshire cat and green eyes, burry–

"Yeah, cool," Ali says loudly, walking around the room and randomly touching things.

And then there's silence again. She feels Hanna watching her but she doesn't turn around.

A few minutes pass with Hanna still in the doorway – and it's starting to get on Ali's nerves, why can't she sit down? It makes her nervous – and Alison perching by the window, looking into the Hastings' perfect garden where Aria and Spencer are sitting side by side, sharing earplugs and laughing at something on Spencer's laptop.

Fuck them.

"Aren't you going to Spence's?" Ali asks without turning around.

"I was on my way there," Hanna answers, "I wanted to see you, though, so I came here."

Ali says nothing.

"We wanted to ask you to tag along. Come over. Lots of times."

Ali says nothing.

"But..." Hanna says.

"God, Han, you act like I even care. It's not like I want to hang out with you." Ali rolls her eyes and hopes her voice sounds like it used to, back then when it was still Ali D and Hefty Hanna.

Hanna says nothing.

It was much easier to talk to all of you when you thought I was dead, Ali thinks and again, it's not until she turns around and sees Hanna's expression that she realizes she said it out aloud.

Ali's mom brings them brownies, clasps her hands together, whispering something about how happy she is that Alison finally got her girls back and motions Hanna to sit. Which she does. On Jason's bed, though, and Ali's somewhat relieved (and yet, somewhat disappointed) that she didn't even consider joining her. Alison puts her feet on top of the other armchair. There. Much better.

"I'm sorry," Ali says when her mom leaves the room again.

She means it.

"I know."

* * *

Hanna starts coming over every now and then. First, Alison suspects it's her mom who talked the blonde into it; she catches her on the phone one day, no doubt talking to Ali's shrink, murmuring about Ali's "current state of mind" (as if she is the one who eats half a bottle of Valium each night, thank you very much). But Hanna comes over when her mom isn't even there and mostly, they don't really talk. Hanna takes her usual spot by the doorway – Alison wonders whether she tries to make sure Ali doesn't run away again or if she's the one who thinks about running – and Alison sits by the window, reading but not really reading one of the books her mom bought her. After a while, Hanna starts putting her bag on Jason's bed when she comes in, then lies down next to it and flips through the same magazines Ali has seen her reading at Spencer's (before she put up her blinds, that is) and twelve days in, Alison looks next to her to find her friend-or-maybe-not-who-knows crouching on the floor, Indian-style, her head resting against the chair's back, listening to music on her iPod.

So only one other thing comes to Ali's mind: Hanna's here because someone (Aria? No, most definitely Spencer) asked her to check on her, make sure Ali isn't pulling stunts again, make sure Ali isn't doing something they'll have to pay for. Again.

(One evening, Hanna falls asleep while Alison's braiding her own still wet hair and when she turns around, sees the blonde lying on top of Jason's dirty bed sheets nobody has changed in at least four weeks, she can't help but press a gentle kiss on her forehead and she's pretty sure Hanna notices but they don't talk about it so it didn't really happen, right? Right.)

"Em's birthday is coming up," Hanna says, later. The two of them are in the DiLaurentis' living room, Hanna is plucking her eyebrows in front of a small hand mirror she put on top of the piano while Alison flips through TV channels, trying to decide whether she feels like keeping up with the Kardashians or not.

"Huh," Ali says, frowning, "it's November already?"

"She's, like, way excited," Hanna rambles on, ignoring Ali's confused comment, "and you're coming, too."

"I do? Why doesn't Em tell me herself?"

(Alison stares out of windows a lot. She caught Em on her doorstep six or seven times already, always mid-knock, always turning around, getting on her bike and riding away again. She misses her. It hurts.)

"Because," Hanna replies, draws her head back, tilts the mirror a little bit and runs a finger along her left eyebrow, "Emily's totally busy with work and college stuff and school and her family and... things. She wants you there, though, so you should come."

Ali shrugs and when she sees her own face on the television, for some reason still making the news – HD, of course, and it's that awful photograph of her again, forever fifteen and a happy, long lost glow in her eyes she hasn't been able to find there ever again – her fingers hover over the remote for a split second. She turns the TV off.

"Maybe I'll come," she eventually says, "if I don't find anything better to do, that is."

There's that look. Ali doesn't like that look. It's full of pity and concern and sympathy and she certainly doesn't need _that_ from Hefty Hanna.

"I'm glad," Hanna says, once more ignoring Ali's crossed arms and the obvious shift in her mood, "it's a small party, it going's to be great."

These days, talking to Hanna feels different. Hanna feels different and maybe that's OK, Ali thinks, watching the blonde plucking her other brow, because she, too, doesn't feel like old Alison anymore.

She's changed. But she doesn't quite know (yet) what she's changed into.

* * *

On Thursday, there's a knock on the door and after ignoring it the first three times, hoping that someone else is going to get it, Ali throws her laptop aside with a sigh and answers.

"Hey," Spencer Hastings says.

"Jason isn't here," Alison says and wants to close the door but she doesn't.

"I know, we've talked."

Ali knows that, of course. They've spoken on the phone at least twice this week, Jason took his sister out for a coffee or two, and Ali's pretty sure they met up on the front porch last night because Spencer Hastings' laugh isn't something you simply forget (even though it's been a while since the brunette laughed with her) but she decides not to comment on it and shrugs.

"What do you want?"

It sounds hostile. Spencer purses her lips.

"I'm picking you up," she says in a neutral tone and when she sees Alison's confused expression, she adds, a bit irritated this time,"We wanted to go shopping, remember? For Em's birthday?"

"I thought Hanna..."

"Yeah, she's waiting in the car."

Ali looks over Spencer's shoulder and sure enough, there's Hanna Marin in the driver's seat of her car, applying lipstick and when she sees the blonde staring, she flashes her a genuine smile. Look at that, Hanna actually seems happy to see her.

Blue eyes meet brown again.

Spencer, on the other hand, looks like she's about to vomit.

Good.

"Aria isn't coming," the brunette says.

"I didn't ask."

Oh, if looks could kill.

"Gimme a sec," Ali then says, closes the door before Spencer can say a word and runs up the stairs to put on something else besides Jason's oversized college sweatshirts.

The ride to the shopping mall is mostly silent. Ali doesn't know what to talk about, Spencer apparently doesn't want to talk (she's watching Ali from the mirror with raised eyebrows) and Hanna sings along with the car radio, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

They don't stay in Rosewood. Probably because the girls don't want any more attention which Ali's presence is surely going to get them – and aren't they just lucky? They're all going to college, just a bit later than they should have, while Ali gets left behind with all the stuff they'll most likely forget when they're gone.

(No matter how much make-up Spencer puts on – and Ali can tell that it's a lot, even though Spencer refuses to get close to her – she has dark circles under her eyes which make her look much older than she actually is. Her legs don't seem to stand still either, even when she sits down, they're always in motion, always restless. While they're looking for new dresses, Hanna stares at her own reflection in the mirror, gets a strange expression on her face and then decides to skip lunch. Both of them cringe whenever they get a new text message. Ali says nothing.)

It's strange how all of their position have reversed. The way the two girls keep on laughing with each other, actually holding hands at some point, while Ali constantly stays behind, makes her feel like the group's Mona Vanderwaal. Or something.

She voices her thoughts when they eventually go for a frozen yoghurt (Spence talks Hanna into eating one and finishes up her own in a couple of minutes, murmuring something about her low blood sugar).

"God, Ali," Spencer replies, throwing up her hands dramatically, "Is your mouth even connected to your brain?"

Ah.

Nice.

"What's the matter, Spence? Where's all the rage coming from? Not getting any from your boyfriend?" Ali shoots back. She throws her hair over her shoulder. This feels good. Fighting with Spencer feels familiar. Like old times. Much better than this... thing, this place they're currently stuck in.

Hanna's look goes from one girl to the other and then she sighs as if she expected this. As if she was waiting for it. As if she knows that this isn't really about a stupid comment about that stupid Vanderwaal bitch. "Guys..."

Spencer pretends she didn't hear her and gives Ali a nasty sneer. "What's the matter, _Ali_? Where's all _your_ rage coming from? Finally realized how—"

"Guys," Hanna says, a bit louder this time.

"I had him first, you know," Ali cuts in, glaring at Spencer, "You kinda have a thing for other people's boyfriends and left-overs, don't you? First Melissa's, then mine..."

Hanna slams her fist on the table and the two girls snap out of it for a moment. "Guys!"

"No, Han, let it go. God, I don't even know why I agreed to meet up with her." Spencer looks like she's about to stand up but she doesn't."She hasn't changed a bit. I told all of you that we cannot–"

"Shut up," Hanna interrupts her. Spencer's eyebrows rise dangerously high. "Leave her alone."

Ali wants to snap at Hanna for daring to defend her. Or maybe take her frozen yoghurt and throw it in Spencer's face. Or maybe stand up, shout "Bye losers", catch a ride to Rosewood and then go out with her friends. You know, if she still had any that a.) aren't dead, b.) didn't conspire against her at some point or another and c.) talk to her.

"Are you actually defending– I can't believe this! Did you forget what she did? To you? To me? To Aria? Em? To all of us?"

"No," Hanna says simply, takes a spoonful of her yoghurt, "I didn't. But people change. She's trying, OK? Just– just leave her. Do it for me. Please."

Spencer gives Alison a hard look.

Ali avoids the brown eyes boring into hers and stares at her yoghurt instead.

* * *

(Later, they get out in front of the Hastings' house after Hanna apologizes, like, four times for not being able to come over tonight even though she totally wants to, she really does but she has to help Ms Marin and her fiance with something, she'll call her later, though, alright? Spencer watches them with her arms crossed and looking like she's chewing something really disgusting.

The blonde doesn't say goodbye to her brother's sister and neither does the brunette but Spencer walks her home, arms still tightly crossed over her chest, and when they're on Ali's front porch, she doesn't really know if she's supposed to invite her in but Spencer comes in anyway, then takes the shortcut to her house through the DiLaurentis' backyard.

That night, Spencer opens her blinds and Alison can see her sprawled across her bed, her phone cradled between ear and shoulder while chewing on a pen.

It's something.)

* * *

While getting up the stairs, she can hear familiar laughs coming from Spencer's bedroom. For some reason, she gets the sudden urge to run away (go home, sit on Jason's bed and watch all of them from a safe distance) and her stomach drops (her hands start shaking) when the door unexpectedly opens and she comes face to face with Aria Montgomery.

The smile on Aria's face fades away immediately. She looks over her shoulder to meet the other girls' eyes and they're doing their silent communication thing again.

"Your mom let me in," Ali says to Spencer.

"Uh, yeah, come in. We were just, uh, getting ready," Spencer replies slowly, throwing a glance to Aria who still hasn't moved and who looks like she's ready to push the blonde down the stairs.

"I'm glad you came," Hanna says.

Huh. Strange. Ali will never get used to that.

When no one moves or says a thing, Hanna clears her throat and says, "I really like your shirt. And your hair looks really nice."

Spencer, still staring at Aria's head, shakes out of it and flashes Alison a fake smile. "Yeah, uh, it looks really... different."

Ali touches her (somewhat) short(er) hair self-consciously. "Yeah, thanks." Pause. "That's a... nice necklace. Spence. _Spencer_," she corrects herself when the brunette knits her eyebrows together in a mixture of distrust, confusion and annoyance.

Finally, Aria moves away from the door, plops on top of Spencer's bed and her body language says what Hanna most likely asked her not to: _We don't want you here. You're not a part of us anymore. I only agreed for Em's and Han's sakes. I don't like you._

"You, uh, brought pizza?" Spencer then asks and gestures towards the box in Ali's hands.

"Yeah, tuna and I think salami but my mom– I didn't really–"

"I'm a vegetarian," Aria says.

Ali's face falls. She forgot about that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't–"

But Aria doesn't give her so much as a quick glare and pretends to be interested in the photographs on Spence's nightstand instead.

"It's OK," Hanna says warmly, takes the pizza from Ali and places it on top of Spencer's desk, "We can pick off the meat for Aria's slices."

"It doesn't work that way," Spencer replies, sitting down behind Aria. They share another glance. Ali wishes they'd stop.

"We can get another one," Hanna suggests.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Are you two married or something?" Ali blurts out.

Neither girl answers.

Ali wonders if the four of them had more fun at her funeral.

* * *

(Pam Fields stares at her as if she's a ghost. They've talked a few times over the last weeks and yet, there's still this weird "I feel like I'm stuck in an episode of _Pushing Daisies_" expression on her face. She's doing better than Ella Montgomery, though, who chooses to completely ignore her whenever they randomly meet in Rosewood. Ali doesn't blame her. Ashley Marin has a bottle of wine near when Hanna takes Alison over; Veronica Hastings doesn't show any emotion whatsoever. It's probably a Hastings thing.)

* * *

"Have you talked to Em yet?" Hanna whispers into her ear while they both stand in the Fields' kitchen. Alison gazes over to Emily who looks absolutely gorgeous. As always.

"Yeah," Ali lies and, suddenly feeling extremely insecure, begins straightening her shirt, "lots of times."

"Maybe you should go over and, you know, say hello. Wish her a happy birthday."

Hanna bumps her shoulder into hers, her eyes sparkling mischievously. As if they're sharing an inside joke or something. Except they are not. Ali doesn't know what the hell Hanna's on about.

"God, Hanna, if I wanted your opinion, I would've asked, alright?"

The other blonde throws up her hands in mock defeat and flashes her a goofy smile.

Alison wants to hit her.

Half an hour later, she finds herself sitting on a sofa next to Aria. She doesn't even know why or how it happened but once she realizes whose leg constantly touches hers, it's already too late to stand up and pretend that this never happened. They don't talk. Aria is engrossed in her phone. She's going through various pictures the four girls took together and smiles at one particular stupid photo in which all of them pull stupid duck faces at the camera. (Alison thinks they look like total sluts but whatever. And _no_, it's not because she wants to take photos like that with them.) Aria's lips quiver for a tiny second – Ali hopes she isn't going to cry because she doesn't know how to comfort her and most importantly, if she's even _allowed_ to comfort her – and then she tilts her phone away from the blonde.

_Whatever._

Just then, Emily comes over, hugging a sniffling Aria from behind. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Aria answers a bit too fast, "Yeah, I'm alright."

"Are you sure?"

Alison follows Aria's gaze. Both Hanna and Spencer are slow-dancing with their respective boyfriends, looking sickeningly cute together. Aria's lips quiver again.

"I'm fine, Em."

Emily frowns, gives Aria's shoulders a quick squeeze, stands up and waves Paige to them.

Ali groans inwardly.

"Hey Aria," Paige says, smiling. She doesn't acknowledge Alison's presence. Ali crosses her arms.

"Paige, can you do me a favor and please dance with Aria? Otherwise she's going to be sitting on this sofa forever and I want her to have some fun."

"No, it's OK, I'm fine," Aria insists but Emily's already pulling her to her feet, then slowly pushing her into Paige's arms.

"Just one dance," Emily says, "Paige is a really good dancer. She won't step on your feet, I swear."

"Yeah, it's going to be great," Paige promises, nodding, "and if we suck, we can still dance next to Toby and Spencer. They're, like, Mr and Mrs Clumsy, nobody will notice."

Aria actually laughs at that and Spencer who notices that the girls are staring in her direction, sticks out her tongue at them.

The tiny brunette loops her arm into Paige's (trips over her own feet and would've fallen down if Paige didn't catch her, huh, look at that, Aria is drunk, what a picture) and is ready to join the dancing crowd but Paige hesitates.

She turns to turns to Em. "Are you going to dance with–" She doesn't finish her sentence but throws an uneasy glance towards Alison. Ali rolls her eyes and crosses her legs.

"Uh, I–"

"Don't worry about your honey, sweetie, I don't wanna dance," Ali interrupts them, looking up at pig sk– Paige McCullers and flashing her a real wide grin. Paige looks unimpressed.

"I'll be right back," Paige says and gives Emily a quick peck on her lips.

Alison snorts in disgust.

"Have fun and thank you," Emily says, smiling at the kiss, and then watches Aria and Paige go.

Em takes Aria's place on the sofa and she looks really uncomfortable (as if she's outweighing her words, trying to find out what exactly she's supposed to say). Ali realizes that it's the first time they're (kinda, sorta) alone since that night Paige found them. She wonders if Emily still remembers what perfume Ali was wearing back then, how her skin felt under her fingers, what her lip gloss tasted like because Ali does remember all of these things about her. Every tiny detail.

"So... you're back together, then?" Ali asks. Her voice comes out really bitchy. She tries to pass it off as general Ali-ness, twirls her hair around her finger and gives Em a (totally platonic, duh) teasing look. She wishes she could see it, though, because she's pretty sure that it looks pleading. Or pained. Or maybe even jealous. Which she isn't. No, really.

"Yes, we are," Emily answers.

"Good for you."

She wants to say, "I miss you so much. I miss all of you but I miss you the most."

But instead she says, "Thanks for inviting me."

Emily gives her a small smile and squeezes her hand (Alison's breath catches in her throat and her heart skips a beat and she freaking hates it) but then Emily starts really smiling once she spots Aria and Paige dancing like total nerd next to Hanna and her hobo boyfriend and Alison reaches for Aria's abandoned cup on the table and drowns its contents in one solid gulp.

* * *

Three and a half hours into the party and almost everyone is drunk. Ali doesn't recognize half of the faces that turn towards her when she passes them but they all know who she is. Old Ali would've thrown her mane back, all Queen Bee and Regina George, basking in their attention, dropping jaws and turning heads, but New Ali, whoever that is, avoids their eyes and stares at the floor instead because she knows exactly why they recognize her.

(Yesterday she saw one of the missing posters from that year again, god knows they they still exist. And still, a part of Ali can't help but wonder if they're kinda true. Like, that girl on the photo? She hasn't been here in a long time.)

Alison stands in the kitchen once more, takes some chips out of a bowl, puts them in a line and then crunches them with her fist. It makes a comforting noise. At least she thinks it does because the music is way too loud, even in here. So she does it again.

Right then, Hanna and Emily come in.

"I can't believe you," Emily is saying angrily, "you said you wanted the key to my bedroom because you didn't feel good and needed to lie down."

"Well, yeah," Hanna replies, "and I lay down, didn't I?"

"Yes! Yes, you did! With Caleb on top of you!"

"OK, first of all, no, I was on top of him when you tumbled inside... which, by the way, rude? You could've knocked! Second–"

"Han!" Emily cries, "I don't need to hear this!"

"Well, that red-haired girl from your swim team and one of Caleb's friends are doing it in your parents' bathroom, so..."

"What?"

"I saw them going inside. Like, fifteen minutes ago."

"They aren't. You're making that up."

"I so am not!"

Emily hurries off with a horrified expression on her face, comes back again and thrusts a key into Alison's hand. "Here. Please take good care of that. I don't need my hormonal friends going at it like rabbits on my bed."

"Window seat," Hanna corrects.

Emily shoots her a glare and walks away.

"Soooo...", Hanna says once Emily is gone and leans against the counter, "Are you having fun?"

Ali doesn't know what answer she's supposed to give so she shrugs a little and holds out the bowl for Hanna who takes a handful of chips and stuffs it into her mouth. Then Alison scoops the chips crumbs from the counter back into the bowl and stands next to her friend, wiping her hands on her jeans.

"I'll probably go home in a while."

"What?" Hanna replies, "No, you can't go! You have to stay!"

"This party's so lame."

"You know what, Ali, drop the act," Hanna says, grimaces and squares her shoulders, "I consider us friends. I consider us friends because I _know _you've changed, OK? Stop pretending we're still fifteen and you have to prove something to yourself. And me. And to all of us." She casually takes another handful of chips. "It's getting _really _exhausting constantly trying to get through you. You're worse than Aria and Spencer combined. And _now_," she adds, "eat some chips and join the crowd. If you're, like, mad because Emily doesn't really talk to you, go and talk to her."

Alison crosses her arms, takes a step back, mouth agape, struggling to come up with a comeback and all she manages is a (rather weak-sounding), "And you should cut back on the chips, Han."

For a second or two or three or a whole freaking lifetime, Hanna simply watches her, an unreadable expression on her face and then she smiles a little (sad? disappointed? nostalgic?) smile. "You felt like I hurt you so you wanted to hurt me back. I get that. Doesn't work anymore, though. I still like you. For some reason. Even if everyone and their mom tells me not to. So, too bad for you." She squeezes Alison's arm and walks off.

Ali doesn't know what just happened.

* * *

Emily's room has changed since the last time she came here and yet, it's still the same. The feeling is the same. With the chips bowl in her hands, Ali wanders through the smallish room, taking in the prices, medals and photographs sitting on top of Em's wardrobes, nightstand, desk, hanging on the walls. There are lot of pictures of young Emily, some of them with her mother, some of them with her father, most of them with both her parents. The girls are on almost every other photo, too, either smiling, pulling strange faces or hugging each other. There's Paige, grinning at the camera, looking insanely happy next to Emily, and Alison's stomach drops at that. She is pretty sure the last time she was here, there were at least, like, five or six photographs of her.

She shoves some chips into her mouth, glaring at Photo-Paige and starts randomly opening Emily's drawers. She knows she shouldn't, she knows that going through your ex-friend's stuff without permission isn't ranked high on the Stuff to Do to Earn Said Friend's Trust Back list but she can't help it. Did she throw them away? Burn them?

She couldn't possibly have done that.  
_  
_Or maybe she did?

Downstairs, they finally play a song that Alison actually recognizes. There's a drawn-out "Fuck yeah!" in the hallway. For a second, Alison turns around because she's half-expecting that someone to run in but all she hears is a loud bump-like noise, stomping feet, as if somebody's running down (running up?) the stairs in a hurry. She shrugs, then, and continues her search. In the third drawer she opens, she finds _Great Expectations_.

Bingo.

Surely Em remembers _that_?

Because Ali does.

(And she remembers everything that followed and guilt overcomes her at once. She wants to erase everything that happened, everything she's ever done to _her,_ and _them_, and everyone and oh god, why don't they ever tell you, like, in school or something that this redemption gig or whatever is not as easy as it looks?)

She puts down the empty bowl, wipes her hands on her jeans again, and stares at the book. The book stares back at her.

"What are you doing?" a slurred voice asks.

Ali jumps and frantically shuts the drawer. "Nothing," she replies in a high-pitched tone. Like a little girl. She is _so _embarrassed for herself. "I was just looking for something."

Aria stumbles into the room, slams the door shut, kicks off her shoes and falls face-down on Emily's bed. "I don't care. Go away."

"But I was here first," Ali gives back and she knows it sounds childish but she doesn't really want to go back to the party, not when Hanna's still there, giving her the kind of I-can-see-right-through-you-looks her shrink uses. "You go away."

"Yeah, well, you ruined my life and I'm gonna throw up if I move, so _you _go away."

Ali doesn't move, watches the brunette, hesitating before she finally gives in and asks, "Do you, like, need something? I can go and get Em."

"No." Aria slowly turns around to lie on her back and groans. "Don't talk to me like we're friends. We're not. Go. Away," she repeats and puts her hands over her eyes, "I don't want you here."

She looks pale, paler than usual. And kinda green...ish.

"Are you _really_ sure you don't need one of the girls?"

"Stop talking to me."

"I'm just saying, you look like total crap."

At that, Aria sits up and gives her the evilest of glares. Which is kinda impressive for such a small person, Ali has to admit, but she doesn't say anything.

"Shut up, Alison," Aria says but just then, her drunkenness kicks in again, full force, and it sounds more like a "_ShuttupppALIson_". Then she clutches her stomach with a strange expression. "Oh. Oh no."

"Oh god," Alison says, takes a step towards the bed, "are you going to puke? Can you make it to the bathroom?"

"Gimme the bowl."

"What?"

"Just gimme the freaking bowl."

Ali hurriedly grabs the empty chips bowl, hands it over to Aria who, sure enough, starts throwing up right then. For a split second Ali doesn't know what to do with her arms which dangle uselessly by her side but then it feels like 2008 again, at least for said split second, and she holds Aria's hair out of her face with one hand and puts the other arm around her shoulder. It feels awkward and Ali knows that it probably looks awkward, too, but Aria is simultaneously crying and throwing up, the bowl is already half-full and Alison can't look at it (but can't look away, either) and once Aria starts throwing insults at her in-between gags and coughs, Ali thinks that maybe everything will turn out to be okay between them. One day, at least.

* * *

(The bowl luckily doesn't spill over but Aria's still hunched over it after she's done and continues crying and insulting her for a little while. Alison lets go of her hair but doesn't know what else to do. She leaves her other arm right where it is, on the brunette's shoulder, in an attempt of a weird half-hug and when Aria doesn't shrug her arm away, Alison holds on tighter.

Minutes pass and Aria finally stops crying, an occasional hiccup or sob escaping her lips but she _does_ stop the insults, too, so Alison figures that she must be tired. Without a word, Aria escapes the embrace, then, and lies down on Emily's bed. The blonde stands up, puts the bowl on the nightstand and throws a blanket over the brunette's petite form.

"We're still not friends," Aria mumbles against the pillow.

"I can live with that," Ali replies, takes the bowl and cleans it in the bathroom. When she comes back, Aria is fast asleep. Ali looks at her. Smiles against her will. Then takes Aria's shoes, puts them next to the bed and curls up on Emily's window seat.)

* * *

Ali's not exactly looking forward to it but it's already been six months since her official return to Rosewood and she knows she eventually will have to go back to school again. Her mother agrees instantly, saying that she was just waiting for Alison to bring that topic up because she didn't want to push her. Her shrink is positively glowing and excitedly clapping her hands when Ali tells her about her plans, praising her progress. Ali feels like a child.

Jason who moved out a couple of weeks ago and now lives near the center of town, orders a cheesecake for both of them when their coffees arrive and passes Ali the sugar shaker once he's done with it while she passes him the milk.

"I'm surprised," he admits, "I was kind of thinking you'd pull off a homeschooling thing."

"With mom? _Please_," she retorts and stirs her coffee.

"I'm just saying. A few months ago you were hardly leaving the house. Sleeping all day. Not showering. Smelling like I did after drinking too much."

"Yeah, and a few months before _that, _I was sneaking around Rosewood. Remember?"

He looks into her eyes and they both laugh.

It still feels funny to have casual conversations with her brother but she's slowly getting there.

"You can help me catch up, if you want," Ali later says while they're eating their cheesecakes. "Like, help me with math and bio? Even though you graduated like a hundred years ago?"

"You know I sucked at bio," Jason replies, "but I can still come over and pretend I actually understand something."

"That'd be nice," she says, then adds,"Oh, and we can watch that show you're so crazy about? Game of Something?"

"_Game of Thrones._ And I'm currently watching that with my other lovely sister. You probably know her, about _this_ tall, doe-eyed, a total Tyrion Lannister fangirl?"

Ali doesn't know who or what a Tyrion Lannister is.

"But if you're really interested, you can join us. We'll probably start another rewatch next week."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Ali says, vigorously squashing the remains of her cake with her fork. Jason glances down at her plate but doesn't comment on it. Good.

"I bet Spence doesn't really mind. She'll be thrilled to have someone to go through the Red Wedding unprepared." His eyes get distant and he laughs. "Like, she reads the books – the show's based on a book series – and knew what was coming. And we met up for Rains of Castamere, you know, that's the Red Wedding episode, and she's already grinning? And Aria and Toby were there, too, and Spencer is the only one laughing after it ends. While we are sitting there like... like this." His mouth opens in fake shock. "And she's actually laughing."

"Uh, sounds great," Ali says.

And she kind of hates Spencer again.

* * *

The show's fun, though, Ali has to admit, although it's not her usual genre. She comes back from Jason's kitchen with a fresh bowl of microwave popcorn and plops back onto her spot on his huge couch.

"I kind of like Cersei," Alison says and watches Jason put in the next DVD.

"You would," Spencer says dryly.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

Jason sits back down next to Spencer and tries pulling her blanket over him but she grabs onto it more forcefully. "Get your own."

"I'm cold!"

"Get your own blanket!"

They push and pull at each other for a few seconds – just like little kids, Ali remarks – until Jason finally gives up sighing dramatically, and turns to his other sister. "Care to share your blanket with me?"

Spencer reaches over Jason to grab some of the popcorn in Ali's lap. While Ali pretends to ponder over his question and the intro rolls in, she catches Spencer curiously watching her and then Ali gives Jason a wide grin instead. "No. Get your own."

"I'm in my own freaking apartment and can't even use my own freaking blankets," Jason murmurs under his breath and stands up.

When he comes back, he makes Spencer scoot over to Ali and she only hesitates for a small second before she does. The brunette and the blonde manage to eat up a whole bowl of popcorn by themselves in less than fifteen minutes (and Ali can't help but think that this is some sort of competition for Spencer because for every handful Ali takes, Spencer has to take two but it's kind of funny, cute even, so she doesn't mind) and once again, Jason starts complaining about stupid little sisters and how much easier his life was when he didn't have both of them in it. It's a bizarre joke, one that'd make Ali's mother freak but Ali laughs really hard. Spencer gives both of them a weird look and starts laughing, too. Jason seems pleased with himself.

Two and a half episodes later, Jason falls asleep, his legs sprawled across both girls' laps. It's getting lateish. Ali thinks that she probably should head home in a while, although it's Friday and she doesn't really have anything remotely interesting to do next morning except for getting up really early to watch cartoons while munching away on her cereal and messaging Hanna.

Still, it's... nice here. Like, Spencer, she's sitting really close by now, their shoulders are almost touching and Alison feels rather than hears her throaty chuckle. Her brows are furrowed together in concentration (or maybe in an attempt to actually _see_ the screen, Spencer used to wear glasses, didn't she?), her mouth hangs slightly open, occasionally mouthing the lines with the characters.

Next to them, Jason starts snoring.

It's nice.

Somehow.

When the credits roll in, Ali's mom calls her and tells her to come home,_ immediately_ and what the hell is she thinking, it's already past her curfew and what the hell is _Jason_ thinking, and, "If he even thinks about sending you home alone, you're calling me directly and I'm picking you up, there's no way you're going by yourself".

She hangs up. Sighs. The brunette next to her gives her a sympathetic look.

"She's crazy," Ali explains.

"She's worried."

"No, she's crazy." Ali stands up, stretches, folds the blanket into a neat square and puts it back on the couch. "Anyway, I'm off. See you, I guess."

"Wait, isn't Jason driving you?"

Alison raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow (thanks Hanna) and points to Jason who mumbles something inaudible in his sleep, then continues snoring again. "_Yeah_. No. I can manage."

Spencer walks her over to the door and watches as she puts on her boots and jacket. She hands Ali her bag. "Uh..."

"So..."

They speak at the same time. Spencer crosses her arms. Ali clears her throat, gives her ex-friend a short nod, opens the door and steps out.

Deep down, she wonders if the only reason Spencer's staying is because she doesn't want to offer her a ride home. Not that Ali would take her up on it. That would be beyond uncomfortable. Still.

The stairs are dark. She doesn't bother to feel for a light switch because she knows they aren't working.

"Hey, Ali, hang on a sec," Spencer suddenly calls to her and Alison turns around. She half-expects the brunette to correct herself, like she always does when she accidentally uses her nickname but for some reason, she doesn't.

"Yeah?"

"I can help you," Spencer says, "Jason told me about, uh, your plans and if you want someone to go over school work with you, I could do that. I mean, if you want."

"I'd like that," Ali replies. She hesitates before adding, "Goodnight, Spence."

"Night."

And then Spencer gives her the first genuine-looking smile in a long, long, long time.

* * *

(Ali didn't expect Spencer to be the second girl to reach out for her. Then again, she didn't really expect _any_ of them to reach out for her once the whole A drama was done. Sure, she couldn't help it and kinda, sorta, maybe hoped for it... but hope and optimism – and naivety – were the things that got her in the crappy situation she was stuck in for the last few years, so basically, hope's, like, totally overrated, anyway.

But they start seeing each other at least once a week, either marathoning _Game of Thrones_ on Jason's couch or hunched over school books. Sometimes, Hanna joins them while they're doing the latter in the Hastings' kitchen. Turns out Ali still sucks at math and bio but she's actually pretty okay at English and, to Spencer's surprise, French and they exchange a few French jokes with each other while Hanna starts singing the chorus to _Lady Marmelade_. Spencer makes Alison a schedule for school and Alison makes Spencer a Daenerys Targaryen collage she starts using as her desktop background.

One Saturday, Hanna walks in and spots the two girls concentrated on their studies. Alison has gotten the answer wrong for the fourth time and can hardly contain her frustration. Spencer is burying her head in her arms and looks kinda overwhelmed by her History book.

"OK, that's enough," Hanna says, "You were in the exact same spot when I came by almost four freaking hours ago. We go out. Now."

"But I need to finish this," Spencer protests weakly but Hanna is already pulling the book from underneath her and snapping it shut.

"You can finish later. Come on," Hanna says. When neither girl moves, she adds, "I'm telling Jason. And Toby."

"_I'm telling Jason and Toby_," Spencer mimics but she still follows Hanna out.

After dinner even Spencer agrees that they are done with studying for now and maybe could watch a movie instead and while they're waiting for Hanna to come back from the restroom and Alison plays_ Candy Crush_ on her phone – it's kind of addictive and she wishes Hanna wouldn't have told her about it – some guy approaches them. Ali looks up to see him staring at her. It makes her uncomfortable. She looks at her phone again.

"Hey Spencer," the guy says, still staring at Ali, "I've been trying to reach you."

"Oh," Spencer says, fumbles around in her bag, "Sorry, I must have left my phone at home. What's up? Did you send me your part of the power point?"

"Yeah, listen, about that... I know I said I'd do it and we already had some... _issues_..." At that, Spencer raises her eyebrows, obviously remembering something Alison doesn't know, "... before but... you see, I was kinda busy with other stuff and hoping you'd just–"

"Do everything by myself? _Again_? I gave you a book list. I even emailed you all my notes. _Again._"

"Aw, c'mon. It's not a huge deal, is it? I mean. You're Spencer Hastings."

Alison snorts.

"Excuse me," the guy says, "and _you_ are?"

It's a pointless question. He knows who she is. Everybody does. But before Alison can form a reply, Spencer gets a really weird look in her eyes and snaps, "That's Alison, she's my friend. Ali, meet Brian. Bye Brian."

Hanna now stands by the doors, giving them a little half-wave while simultaneously talking on the phone to someone. Probably her boyfriend. Or Emily who was supposed to join them, _but_... Spencer grabs Alison's hand and they leave the restaurant together.

_Friend._

Huh.)

* * *

Being friends with Spencer Hastings (again) is thrilling. They're so similar in their core and Ali wonders if passionate, highly-intelligent, fiercely protective (and strong-aggressive loving) Spencer is who she could have become under different circumstances (and better choices).

They do things they wouldn't have done at fifteen. Watch those really bizarre artsy black and white movies Spencer is so fond of, for example. Not the ones Aria likes; Spencer's film choices are really scary in a way, like, _Eraserhead_ or whatever it's called leaves Alison feeling kinda terrified. Read books together – well, not_ together _together, of course, but they often randomly buy books at the store and then it's an unspoken competition between them; who finishes her book first, who finishes her book first _and _manages to keep up with school and her social life, who finishes her books first, manages to keep up with life _and _still has time for their weekly _Game of Thrones_ meetings.

It's thrilling and exciting and fun.

Except it's not.

Ali hasn't really talked with Hanna about everything that went down in the past. Yeah, sure, they implied it more than once, and they keep on implying it, what with Alison randomly apologizing for small things, sometimes even a bit teary-eyed, and Hanna's warm hugs and their whispered conversations in the middle of the night. But they never_ really_ talked about it. One day, Alison feels especially courageous and asks her if it bothers her and Hanna shrugs and replies that it's in the past now.

But with Spencer, it's different.

Sometimes, Ali feels like she's being interrogated. Again. Spencer keeps on bringing up topics they've already discussed to death, asking questions she's already asked more than once, twice, one hundred freaking times (especially in the months_ before_, the months before everyone else knew she was back). Ali doesn't really blame her because that's who Spencer is but it's tiring.

Ali isn't allowed to talk about Aria, ever. And if she says one wrong thing about Paige – which she does at least once a day, she can't help it – Spencer scoffs at her and gets really angry, eyes holding their famous glare.

Another thing that is different: when they fight – and they do, a lot, actually, and it's still screams and shouts and hurtful words and getting close, really, really close, silently provoking the other one to give in and use her hand, or fists, or whatever, but neither does – when they fight these days, they make up half an hour later, apologizing and _talking _about _their feelings_ (like actual adult and emotionally-stable people they're not) and it's OK again.

* * *

Weeks fly by. And then it's June and she celebrates a quiet birthday because she doesn't feel like throwing a huge party (doesn't have enough friends to throw a party) and then it's July already and August is approaching quickly.

The girls are leaving for college soon. While Alison is painting her nails and Spencer is typing away on her laptop, Hanna suggests a final sleepover before they all meet on Christmas again.

"We'll meet before Christmas, Han, it's not like we're leaving the country or anything. We'll be in touch," Spencer replies without looking up and continues typing.

"What are you doing there, anyway?" Ali asks her and hands Hanna the pink nail polish.

"Homework."

"_What_?" Hanna exclaims. "School hasn't even started! Why are you doing your homework? Can't you, like, do your boyfriend if you've got too much free time on your hands?"

"I took some online courses!"

"For credit?"

"For fun."

Ali and Hanna both let out a groan.

It's funny that they eventually settle for the Hastings' barn as their sleepover location. Well, funny in some twisted, ironic kind of way. And, somehow, their little get-together mirrors That Night pretty well. Ali arrives later than the rest because her mom insists on making sure that there will be one adult present – her mom is totally embarrassing and she's glad that the girls aren't there to witness it – and when they both knock on the main building's door, Ashley Marin, Ella Montgomery, Veronica Hastings and Pam Fields assure her that they'll check in on the girls and make sure they're OK (they don't), then convince her to join them. Ali wonders why Mrs. Hastings is still so nice to her mom, especially after Jason, but maybe that's (another) Hastings thing. All they'll be doing is drink wine and talk shit about their (ex-)husbands, Ali thinks as she walks over to the barn, but her mom desperately needs to make some friends, otherwise she'll have to put up with her and her constant nagging forever. So she arrives late to the party, kind of tempted to scare them, like she did That Night, but she isn't exactly on friendly terms with Aria and Emily, and Spencer, no matter how much better they're these days, would certainly freak and that's one thing Ali wants to avoid. At least tonight.

(Em is wearing a blue Rosewood High Sharks tank top and shorts that barely reach mid-thigh; she has her hair in a high ponytail and a sparkle in her eyes. Ali has a hard time ripping her eyes off her until her gaze drops and she sees the initial necklace around Emily's slender neck, bearing a silver P. Fucking Paige McCullers.)

The barn still smells like Melissa for some reason although the older Hastings lives in Philly now and while it does look entirely different than it did in that summer, they unconsciously sit down on the spots their younger selves chose. They're even drinking from the very same glasses and it's not until "Don't Trust Me" plays on the net radio that the other girls finally realize what they've been clearly avoiding for the last few minutes.

"Turn that off," Aria says immediately.

"Hang on," Hanna replies. The volume goes up. "What? No. It wasn't supposed to do that."

Spencer rolls her eyes, takes her laptop from Hanna's lap and switches to the next song.

A few hours later Alison sits huddled in the armchair, her knees to her chest, and pretends to be interested in the movie but it's hard to concentrate on anything other than how lonely she feels when she can see from the corner of her eye that the girls are cuddled up against each other, nipping at their drinks, laughing and chatting quietly. Em, who went over to the house, comes in just then, sighs loudly and throws herself onto the couch.

"Watch it," Hanna slurs and gives Emily a push. Aria starts giggling.

Ali sort of wishes she was drunk right now.

"Our moms," Em says slowly, rolling her eyes, "are crying because we're leaving in a few weeks."

"Or maybe they're crying because you're completely wasted," Spencer suggests in a surprisingly sober-sounding, serious voice.

"Huh." Emily contemplates that for a moment, then shakes her head. "No, I don't think they noticed."

"I'm gonna miss you all so much, though," Aria says, trying to touch all of them at once but, naturally, failing. She leans back against Spencer's shoulder instead. Her voice is shaking.

"No, _no,_ stop that," Hanna cuts in, holding up a warning finger, "you've done enough crying for a freaking life time. Besides, you know how it gets, one of us starts and everybody joins in and then it's one big snot fest. _No_."

"I'm going to miss all of you, too." Emily's already on the edge of tears.

"_Spence_," Hanna groans, "do something."

But it's already too late. Aria starts sobbing hysterically; Emily makes a pained face and joins her; and Spencer's lips wobble into a sad, teary smile.

"Fuck all of you," Hanna then says but she's actually ugly-crying into Em's back.

Alison sits on her armchair awkwardly, knows that she's intruding an intimate (albeit drunken) moment and pulls out her phone, trying to busy herself with another round of _Candy Crush_. It doesn't work, though, so she stands up and attempts to silently sneak away but, even without looking up, Hanna stops her, "No, Ali, _whatteryoudoing._"

"Nothing, I was just going to get some fresh air," the blonde replies and shrugs.

"_Nooooo_," Hanna replies. "Come here."

And then, suddenly, she's lying on top of her former best, currently drunk friends and she doesn't know what she's done to deserve this.

(Em's breath is close to her ear, causing her to shiver; it smells like strawberry schnapps. It's intoxicating.)

A bit later, the girls are all in different stages of drunkenness. Hanna is dancing and singing along to some Britney song; Spencer's moping because her boyfriend won't respond to her booty call; Emily is already half-asleep. Alison finally steps out to get some fresh air, for real this time, and isn't surprised to find Aria sitting on the grass.

"Do you want me to go?" the blonde asks.

"No, it's OK."

She sounds more sober than she did a while ago but Ali can tell that she's still tipsy.

"One time, you stole Jason's cigarettes. I think we were, like, thirteen or fourteen or something, do you remember that?" Aria asks with a distant look in her eyes.

"Yeah, I do," Ali answers and sits down next to her. She takes it as a good sign that Aria doesn't immediately back off (although she does scoot away slightly). "We smoked them behind the barn. Em feared her mom would be able to tell so she didn't join in."

"And my eyes got all red and watery and I started coughing," Aria says, "And, I don't know, I kind of thought that you'd be the one laughing because that's what you do." Hazel eyes gaze up from under thick lashes. "Or _did_. I think. But you didn't. And I could tell that you'd smoked at least once before, just like Han and Spence had, because you were all doing it, I don't know, naturally. But you made yourself choke on the smoke so that I wouldn't be the only one coughing."

Ali says nothing.

In the barn behind them, Spencer and Hanna are doing a drunk rendition of _Push It_.

"I don't know," Aria says, "I just– and we're all going away in a couple of weeks and I know that we haven't talked in ages but while we were inside, I kind of realized that I'll miss you, too. It'll be weird not to have someone around I can glare at."

"Well, if it helps, I'll miss your snarky remarks and glares, too."

Aria gives a small laugh. "Yeah, it does."

"Are we friends?"

"No," Aria replies, leans in closer to her, "But we're getting there."

* * *

Hanna sends out hourly Facebook updates in the first week of college until Spencer calls her "Facebook addict", they get in a quarrel and Aria, Emily and Alison, all part of the conversation, have to unwillingly sit through seven long-ass messages. Then the blonde makes a big deal about not tagging Spencer in her "People I miss like hell" status and, like, a few hours later, Spencer sends all of them a pissed off "Why did you like that? Are you on her side?" text and this whole distance thing? It's a mess.

Meanwhile, Alison is back at Rosewood High and it's going... it's just _going_. Her mom isn't as over-protective, all lion mother and Molly Weasley, as she was a few months ago but she _does _pop by randomly to talk to Ali's teachers and classmates. Until Ella Montgomery tells her to back off a little – although in a much more polite and "I'm an English teacher, I know some really big words" kind of way – and she does. Jason introduces her to the girl he's dating (it doesn't work out but Ali likes her, so they send each other texts every now and then), their mom has actual adult friends and they hold weekly book club meetings (Ali pretends like she doesn't know that _book club _is another word for _moms and wine _club) and Alison has...

Well, Ali has her phone.

(Under Em's new profile picture, it says: "Alison DiLaurentis, Paige McCullers and six other people like this". Ali grips her pencil so hard it breaks.)

They have their first group video chat Skype meeting sometime in October but it turns into one big snot fest, as Hanna called it in August, really fast. It starts out normal enough: they ask each other stuff about college courses; Em has already decided on her major, she says; Ali tells them about the people she's met at school but the moment Aria mentions a guy she talked to in the cafeteria the other day, they all start yammering about how they miss their boyfriends (girlfriend) and Ali has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. It's embarrassing, really – even freaking Spencer pouts.

Alison _kinda _spaces out of the conversation after a little while and _not _just because Em mentions that Paige dropped by last week and Spencer and Hanna go all "D'aww" and _"Tell me more, tell me more, did you go very far, tell me more, tell me more, like does she have a car?_" and it takes her a bit to notice that Aria opened another chat window.

"If I have to listen to them for another minute, I'm gonna kill them," she writes.

"Same," Ali writes back, "I mean, I get that they're like totally in love or whatever but jeez, co-dependent, much?"

"I phoned Hanna yesterday and all she talked to me about was her sex life."

"It's getting ridiculous."

"I'm calling an intervention."

"No," Ali types, "they'll think it's because we're jealous or something."

"But I am, though. I am extremely jealous. I want someone to talk about, too, and then make them throw up from all the cuteness."

"Uh, guys, you know that we can hear _and _see you typing and laughing, right?" Hanna says.

"Yeah, what's that about?" Spencer asks. "Gossiping behind our backs?"

"Sorry, can't tell. It's a secret," Aria replies and sends Ali a smirking emoticon in their chat window.

* * *

(_Aria Montgomery has sent you a friend request._

_Accept._

_You are now friends with Aria Montgomery_.)

* * *

It's December and Ali goes out with a guy from her French class. He is cute, attractive even, and they bond over their mutual interest in music. He doesn't look at her like he's trying to solve a Sudoku puzzle or a freaking _CSI: Miami_ case. She looks at him and sees a guy Old Ali would approve of. So it's good. It's all good. _Peachy fucking keen._

"So you're going for younger boys now?" Jason asks while they're setting the table in his apartment and her date furrows his brows. She shoots her brother a glare.

Later, he stands awkwardly in front of her door and neither of them says a word. She doesn't want to invite him in but there he is, clearly waiting for something, and she doesn't know how to make him leave, either.

When he leans in and kisses her, it's not a big surprise, really.

But his lips are cold and don't feel the way lips should feel like and she pulls back after a couple of short (insanely long) seconds, feigns a little smile. He searches her eyes for something and she looks back into his and then they wish each other goodnight.

And that?

That _is_ surprising.

* * *

("Was that you who pulled me out of the barn? On Mr Marin's not-a-wedding?"

The other unspoken questions linger heavily in the air between them: _was that really you who kissed me? Was that you who asked me to run away with you?_

Their gazes meet. Ali can count the stars in her eyes.

It's like they're back in _that_ dark alley – hands shaking and kind of sweaty but in a good way; warm, hot breaths and perfectly shaped lips that Ali desperately wants to touch, she desperately needs to run her fingers through Em's silky hair again and mess it all up, and yet... she doesn't. Not this time, not tonight. She doesn't even move.

It's taken her years to realize, to admit, that she has fallen for Emily Fields, big time. But she has quite literally fallen, flat on her face, that is; the train is long gone, the ship already sailed, and Em doesn't look at her the way she used to, eyes bright and shiny and full of longing, yearning and the constant pain, hurt and ache of the heart that comes with one-sided love.

Ali has a thing for tragedies and bad timings, she supposes.

"Yes," she finally answers to the first questions and to all of them and Emily breaks their eye contact, stares into her lap as if she's trying to make sense of the fact that the blonde would actually ever do something without ulterior motives.

"Why?"

"Because," Alison replies and it kind of annoys her – makes her smile against her will – that she has started to talk like Hanna, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Emily gives back instantly and flashes her a smile and Ali feels like she might throw up any second but then the brunette adds, "I love and miss all of you so much. I'm so happy we're in a better place now."

Oh.

_Oh._

Whatever.)

* * *

The third anniversary of her return to Rosewood approaches quickly. A lot of shit has happened in all of their lives since then, especially in the past few months alone – nasty breakups, family members marrying and getting pregnant, one of the girls dropping out of college – but it's all relative now, isn't it? Ali has survived her death, the girls have survived her and sure, there still are nightmares, an occasional wince when their phones vibrate, there's still tensing up when they come face to face with people who resemble... other people but Ali has stopped squashing her food, so that has to mean something, right?

Right.

One afternoon where they're all in town, something which rarely happens these days, what with college and the need to finally get _and_ stay out of here, they wander arm in arm through Rosewood (Spencer and Hanna walking in front, Aria and Emily behind, Ali kind of in the middle) and then Aria suggests that they could go over to her place. Well, her _father's_ place.

While they climb up the stairs, giggling away like they used to so many summers ago, Mr. Montgomery shouts a hello to them but Emily is the only one who really notices and greets him back.

"Who is it?" a voice from the kitchen calls.

"Just the girls," Aria's dad replies.

And Alison smiles.

* * *

**A/N: **Another quick note from me, your humble author. First, I need all of you to take Alison's POV with a grain of salt. Sure, she's trying and _kind of_ learning to deal with her own emotional crap _but _she is still Alison. Second, I want to apologize for the lack of Emily and Emison in this fic but I felt like their moments together are really intimate, something Ali wouldn't want to talk or (consciously) think about, kinda like the therapy sessions she hints at but doesn't really explain further. Thanks for reading, hope you're having a great week! :)


End file.
